Deliver Us
by RaichuTec
Summary: There is a price for power, but sometimes it's extracted at a far later date.
1. Winter

Disclaimer: Legend of Dragoon characters, places and terms belong to their respective owners. No profit is gleaned from this by me. This is done for fun and nothing more.

Author's Note: Before I get slammed with reviews from people who have played and finished the game, yes, I am aware of how it originally ended. I didn't like the ending. I wrote my own. Here is what happens after my ending.

**Deliver Us**

**by**

**Raichutec**

Chapter 1: Winter

_Dear Emille, _

I received your letter and I'm a touch uncertain as to why you ask me to seek answers for you in the stars, but I could never deny my beloved sister a request. So, I will soon do as you ask.

The quill pen halted, blotching the ink as Lisa stared out toward the melting skies. The night would soon blanket the world in a sea of diamond stars and constellations. And as usual, she would go to commune with the heavenly abodes for answers and insights into the future of Tiborea. Rarely did she ask for predictions, merely guidance. Now Emille had asked the oddest thing of her and it would mean a bit more energy expended to get any sort of concrete answer. For some reason, the idea of it left a cold knot in her stomach. Or maybe it was simply the question to be asked. Lisa wasn't sure she wanted an answer to it, not for her sake but instead for Emille's.

Setting the quill down after blotting the unnecessary ink, the princess rose gracefully from her chair, smoothing satin skirts before quietly approaching the balcony to watch the last remnants of the sun dip below the horizon and leave the world in night's shroud. She waited there until the first twinkling lights appeared, old friends to her by now and how she always knew their places. Intimate with the cold and distant beauty of ages. She closed her eyes and reached out with her inner will, feeling their presence at the corners of her mind.

Tell me what is to become of my sister.

And so they spoke. Not with words, as humans had known only what they could hear and see, but instead by a method few would ever hope to comprehend. Her brows furrowed, her lips parted as a gasp came with a sharp inhalation of air. Blue eyes suddenly popped open before she could even thank her heavenly friends for their advice and she raced back toward the parchment on her desk, her handwriting scribbled and hasty as she rushed the words out into the letter. Desperate strokes, urgency far more important than keeping her letters perfect. As she finished, she folded it over carefully and quickly lit the candle hold the flame over the waxing sealing, dripping it over the edges until it began to hold fast in cooling. She pressed her sigil ring into it, a private letter for her sister's eyes only.

She only prayed that Emille would read her words in time._  
_

"Miiiiiraaaaaandaaaaaaaaaaaa!" 

Miranda groaned quietly to herself, drumming her fingers against the table absently as she waited the inevitable. Meru simply couldn't settle anywhere for long. Last Miranda knew, the wingly had found love and gotten engaged to a childhood friend. So why Meru wasn't in her wingly village, tied down to a husband by now was beyond the Sacred Sister's understanding. Instead, Meru traveled extensively, spending time with all her 'friends' from the Dragon Conflict, as it had been dubbed nearly two years prior. She flitted from Tiborea to Mille Seseau to Serdio and back again, annoying or cheering up those she had come to care about.

In Miranda's case, it was annoying. And it appeared that it was, yet again, her turn to endure Meru's silly and rather inane jokes and constant chatter.

"Hello, Meru," she greeted with a bland voice as she heard the shuffle of wingly feet entering the dining hall. Her dinner sat in front of her, most likely to go uneaten now. Her appetite left her the moment that grating, high pitched voice began calling for her from down the corridor.

If Meru knew she was being an annoyance it didn't show. The wingly bounced into the room, twirled around gracefully and sank into a chair opposite the Sacred Sister, prodding at the cooling stew with a spoon grabbed from the table. "Hmmm. Mutton stew again? Do you ever eat anything else?"

"I eat what the soldiers eat. Meru... isn't it Serdio's turn for a visit from you?"

"Oh," Meru replied, wrinkling her nose. "Nah, the King is just _way_ too serious lately. I think him and Emille are having problems or something. Honeymoon is over, or that's what Haschel was saying when I visited him. I don't quite get that. What's a honey-moon anyway? Got anything to do with the Moon that Never Sets or something?"

"If you ever go home to your fiancé, you _might_ find out," Miranda sighed in an exasperated tone, resting a cheek against her palm as she propped an elbow on the table. There was no way to get around Meru's visits other than to tolerate them and wait till she became bored enough to leave for her next visit, or victim as the Sacred Sister saw it. Perhaps it was the fact that the Conflict drew them all together that kept her tongue tamed, or perhaps Miranda was just going soft. She could brow beat a lazy soldier till he trembled in fear or wet his own breeches, but she couldn't bring herself to snap at Meru and throw her out of the reconstructed Crystal Palace. Remembering this, she reached for the mug of warm ale, bringing it to her lips before asking, "I take it you aren't going to the Christening ceremony in Serdio, then?"

"Well, of course I am," Meru huffed. "Why... Shana and Dart's little baby is gonna be there to be blessed. I wouldn't miss it for the whole world. I just figured that since I was close to you, I'd drop by and go with you. You're going, right?"

"I was thinking about it," Miranda shrugged her shoulders, pushing the stew toward Meru. The wingly graciously accepted the offer and began eating it without further ado.

"Mmph, s'good, shouldn't waste it," Meru kept on talking even with a mouthful of mutton. "Sooo... mmph, why don't you wanna go? Still got that crush on King Albert?"

Miranda froze, stiffening at the mention of her supposed crush on the King of Serdio. "You don't ever plan to let that go, do you. Albert is soon to be married, Meru. I have my duties here. I do _not_ have a crush on him." But no matter how many times she asserted this, Meru never seemed to hear it. Or at least she refused to believe it.

"Then you're going to the ceremony. Nothing to worry about, right? Besides, I wanna see Dart's kid. I bet it looks more like Shana. I hope anyway. Especially if it's a girl..."

And with that Meru launched into lengthy chit chat regarding Dart and Shana and their newborn child who neither wingly nor Sacred Sister knew much about just yet. Miranda found herself tuning the other out, eyes growing distant while the dull drone of Meru's animated voice provided excellent backdrop for one's mind to begin wandering. She found herself dreading this ceremony, and had been actively looking for an excuse not to attend. To make amends later by paying a visit to Danau and giving a private gift to the new child and its parents. She liked visiting Dart and Shana, after all, or welcoming them to Mille Seseau the few times they visited, but she wanted to avoid Serdio. She and Albert got along as well as oil and vinegar.

She wasn't sure how or when it began. At first she and the King of Serdio were at least polite to one another, if not a little cool. It was Rose she had a hard time getting along with. Darkness and Light were bound to feel a little friction, so no one paid it much mind other than to tell the both of them to knock it off if their arguments became too heated. But after events settled and everyone began rebuilding toward the future, she and Albert began meetings to create trade agreements and other pacts and alliances between Mille Seseau and Serdio. It was then that the friction truly became noticeable. Unfortunately, things came to a head the previous spring, with everyone visiting for the Mille Seseau Renewal Festival. And all with an ill placed comment regarding Albert's betrothed.

_"That's the Princess Emille? Surely you jest. She looks frail enough for the ocean breeze to carry her away. Is that how you like your women, Albert? Dainty and precious?" _

Miranda's thoughts on Emille were meant for public consumption, just as the rest of her opinions tended to be. Meru's hands flew up to her mouth, eyes wide as saucers as she stared at the First Sacred Sister in horror. You didn't talk that way about Emille when Albert was nearby, see, and the wingly was expecting a sudden verbal parlay to begin. 'Verbal parlay' meaning a rather nasty insultive battle of wits between King and Sacred Sister.

Indeed, Albert whirled around so quickly that the green cape tangled around his legs before drifting away to sway back and forth behind him. A gloved hand lifted, then pointed at Miranda while the gears in the King's mind churned, anger clearly darkening his cheeks. "You... you mindless, tactless, disgusting -thing- you." Unlike Albert, indeed, for it was rare that anyone drove him to the boiling point and rarer still that he had no fancy and witty insult to hurl. "How dare you speak of Emille like that, her beauty and kindness transcends above your barbaric and brainless manners."

Miranda sniffed at him, haughty expression and stance radiating from her like an aura. Her chin lifted just as regally as Albert's and the hand against her hip shifted as she fit her weight to one leg. "She's a frail little wisp of a girl, Albert. Good gods, you could do better, what in the world were you thinking? Is she a rebound effort on your part to forget Lavitz for a bit?"

Clearly Miranda had the upper hand in this one. Albert stared at her, expression shocked, skin suddenly pale. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, both fists clenched so hard the worn leather of his gloves creaked. "Miranda," he began, his voice eerily steady and calm, belying the rage that tensed his stance. "I well and truly hate thee." And without another word, he turned again, stalking off before either the Sacred Sister or the wingly could manage to say another word to him. Miranda didn't stick around either, turning on the toes of one boot to stalk off in the opposite direction with her nose high in the air and her hair swaying back and forth in its plaited form.

"What in the world was that all about?" a small voice asked, Shana finally peering her head out from a doorway to see if it were safe to emerge. Realizing that Albert and Miranda had already left, she slowly slipped around to lean against the doorframe. Meru sighed heavily and shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

"I think they're in love. Do you think they'll do that lip press thing that you and Dart do all the time next or-- Shana? Hey wait! Where are you going?"

It wasn't until later that Miranda got wind of Meru's assessment and from Haschel, no less. She remembered clearly how hot she'd gotten and nearly tossed the wingly out on her ear. In love with Albert, indeed! She would never even think about being some prissy, brainless girl to satisfy the King's need for an ear to bend for his pompous poetry. But as the months passed and Spring warmed up to Summer and then boiled down into Autumn and finally crawled toward Winter, Miranda found herself feeling guilty for her comments. Blunt as she was, and stubborn as a mule, eventually her own tongue caught up with her and she felt the need to make amends.

Trouble was, she had no idea if Albert would be forgiving at all. She had insulted Emille, after all, and rather harshly.

"Miranda? Hey, Miranda stop thinking about Albert for cryin' out loud!" Meru's elevated voice drew the Sister out of her thoughts. She blinked twice, then cerulean eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Meru, I am not thinking about Albert."

"Yes you are, yes you are!" Meru countered tauntingly, getting up to stand on her chair and point at Miranda while bouncing. "Look your cheeks are even turning pink! Liar liar, pants on fire sitt- Ohhhhh, Albert and Miranda sittin' in a tree, K - I - S--- Ack!"

Finally tired of the antics, Miranda ended the teasing session with a well placed shove to the table, which pushed forward enough to tap on the chair Meru had herself balanced on. It sent both chair and wingly crashing backwards to the ground. She got up afterwards, using the moment to finally escape Meru's presence. But, not without a parting comment shouted at her fleeing back.

"Heeeey! You can't deny it forever! Albert and Miranda sittin' in a tree, K - I - S..."

And the singsong voice faded away as Miranda hurried herself from the mess hall.

He found her in the sitting room, washed by the morning sunlight that streamed through the picture glass doors leading out to the balcony. Even this early she radiated a muted beauty, gold hair spun into a carefully crafted headdress of gold and diamonds. Her dress swept off the shoulder, colored the delicate, soft pink she so adored. Her repose was thoughtful, eyes staring off into the distance without really looking at anything beyond the scene in her mind's eye. Albert gave pause to watch, wondering if he should even disturb her thoughts. In front of her rested a half eaten breakfast, tea gone lukewarm by now and eggs cold. She hadn't eaten well in the last few months, so seeing that she at least ate part of it assauged some of the King's worries. Other concerns continued to haunt regardless of her eating habits.

"Good morning, Emille," he called softly, drifting closer as she inhaled sharply, startled.

"Oh! Albert, good morning," she replied after a hand flew up to rest against her chest. A thin smile graced her lips as her betrothed seated himself beside her though a degree of separation left unspoken yet acknowledged still kept them miles apart. "You surprised me."

"My apologies, I hadn't meant to disturb you."

Silence permeated the room, Albert and Emille finding themselves looking elsewhere, anywhere but at one another. It pained Albert that this continued. For months now Emille had fallen into a mysterious melancholy, beginning with the official announcement of their betrothal at the start of the Summer season. He courted her properly for over a year, allying with Tiborea as he did with Mille Seseau. Her father approved of the union, even her sister seemed delighted by it and up until that moment, he thought she shared his feelings. But as the days stretched into long and tedious months full of her shadowed smiles and haunted gestures, he wondered if this impending marriage was what she wanted and, if not, what had suddenly changed her mind.

"Dart and Shana will be here later."

It was Emille who broke the silence, looking up toward Albert with a quiet smile. For a moment his heart leapt, sitting up from the slight slouch he'd fallen into despite himself. Hope did that to him and anything, no matter how remotely small, from Emille uplifted him. At least until he realized her smile was forced, for her eyes were still distant as she gazed at him.

"Yes," he replied awkwardly. "It will be good to see them again. I hear their son is already beginning to talk."

"Aye," she replied absently and again they lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

With a sigh, Albert ran a hand through cinnamon colored locks of hair, closing his eyes for a moment while he considered how to end this. How to confront Emille and understand what had her so unhappy. Finally he leaned forward, gloved hands folding on the table as he looked toward Emille. She still couldn't meet his gaze.

"Emille, do I make you unhappy? I cannot marry you, in good faith, if you no longer love me..."

She looked up at him sharply before dipping her chin again, sighing quietly. Her hands wrung in her lap, then smoothed out the satiny fabric as she willed her hands still finally. "No, Albert it isn't that you make me unhappy but... Oh I don't know." She rose to her feet then, turning from him entirely to gaze out the picture window. "I haven't been home in so long. Do you think... would it be all right if I were to go home for a while? To see my sister and my father?"

Albert blinked, rising to his feet before slowly approaching his betrothed from behind. "Is that all this is? Homesickness? By the gods, Emille, could I ever deny you anything? You had only to ask."

She turned then, her smile far more bright, alive, no longer forced or sad. "Really? Oh Albert!" And she threw her arms around him then, resting her cheek against his chest. He smiled, relieved to feel her close again and kissed the top of her head. Something nagged at the back of his mind, a niggling sensation that not even this could mend the growing distance between them. But, as Lavitz once told him, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

He only prayed it would not make her more forgetful instead.

"It's been awhile since we've been back in Serdio," Shana sighed with a contented smile. The babe in her arms slept peacefully, the gentle rocking of the ship easily helped put him under while his parents enjoyed the short trip to Serdio. When Albert accepted their request to Christen the child in his castle, Shana excitedly looked forward to the eventual trip. Dart had been so overprotective of her all through her pregnancy that she'd grown more than tired of sitting about the house with nothing to do. This was finally a chance to leave their home and see old friends. 

The entire idea had originally been Haschel's. As soon as he got wind of his grandchild's birth, he had paid a visit, brightening their lives with his wit and charm. Shana adored him, even if some never quite understood Haschel's childlike humor. Though he was in his sixties, the old man would never grow up and Shana would never have him any other way.

Dart had settled considerably in the time since the Dragon Conflict. He leaned against the edge of the boat, ocean breeze tugging at his unruly locks of gold hair. His expression betrayed his love for Shana, married to her just under two years now, and a father to a disgustingly cute baby. Since then, he'd given up his adventuring days, hanging up his sword and armor to pick up pruning shears instead. The pair had one of the largest gardens in all of Danau, which was an accomplishment considering the entire city was one large herbarium. He had apprenticed himself to Lynn while Shana became friends with Kate. Their children would play together and sometimes Kate even teased that their son might someday marry her daughter. They could always hope, for Shana and Dart had begun their love as childhood friends.

"It'll be nice, yeah. I wonder how Albert and Emille are doing," he finally replied, reaching out to brush his fingers over the smattering of pale hair atop the babe's head. Shana's smile faded slightly, recalling how Haschel described things as being 'difficult' for the King and his betrothed. She prayed quietly that things would work out between them; they had seemed so happy once upon a time and Shana wanted all the Dragoons to share her happiness, to have good lives.

"Everyone will be there, or so I hear. Haschel and Kongol, maybe Miranda and Meru. With Albert there, we'll all be gathered again."

All except for Rose, but that was left unsaid. She had sacrificed herself, going to the next world with her beloved at last. Gone, but certainly not forgotten. Her Dragoon Spirit had eventually been located, alongside the Red Eye Dragoon Spirit Dart once held. Both now resided in Serdio, set in cases within a royal chamber of the castle, heavily under guard. Dart wanted nothing more to do with being a Dragoon, not when he had a wife and family to look after. The others still kept their Spirits, as far as Shana knew, but privately she was relieved to see Dart hand the Spirits over to Albert. She wanted him at home with her, settled now that their grand adventure was over and he no longer searched for the Black Monster or needed revenge.

"It'll be a grand celebration!" came Haschel's voice as if on cue. Coming up from belowdeck, he approached the young couple with his hands clasped behind his back, dark eyes squinting in the morning sunlight. Weathered of face and graying of hair, Haschel's body still belied his sixty some odd years of life, appearing twenty years younger easily. Perhaps it was the inner warmth that radiated from him, or just his inability to ever be serious about anything. "And it should be. We haven't gotten together in a long time. I can't wait to see Albert and Miranda again. And Meru, too, of course."

Behind him lumbered Kongol, silently shadowing his mentor to the deck of the ship. The Gigantos rarely parted from Haschel's side since he began training in the mysterious Rogue School Martial Arts. Dart and Shana both had a hard time picturing anyone as large and slow as Kongol performing such speedy and precise movements, but according to Haschel, he made an excellent student. "Kongol not seen King of Humans in long time. Happy to see him soon."

Though Kongol had bonded with just about everyone in the group eventually, he had a special soft spot for Haschel and Albert, who had taken great lengths to befriend the Gigantos and show him how the races really could live together in harmony. Albert had even set laws into motion, banning discrimination against Gigantos and Winglies. It would be a good number of years before social mindsets changed, but at least steps had been set into motion.

"Wasn't Meru with you not that long ago?" Dart queried of Haschel.

The old man chuckled softly, since he understood that he was one of the few who could tolerate Meru's visits for long without wanting to tear his hair out. "Aye, she was until a few days ago. She decided to go fetch Sister Miranda from Mille Seseau, seeing as she figured Miranda would make up any excuse she could to keep from going to Serdio and facing Albert."

Shana groaned softly, still recalling the incident. "Are those two still fighting over that? I love Miranda like a sister, but she should just apologize and get it over with."

"Either that or kiss the King and get it over with," Haschel couldn't help but add. Everyone, even Kongol, looked at him with exasperated expressions. "What? Hey, I can't help it, it's true!"

"Haschel!" rang the chorus. In unison.

(To be continued...)


	2. Dreams and Waking Nightmares

**Chapter 2: Dreams and Waking Nightmares**

This ship from Mille Seseau to the harbor of Fletz took less than a week, despite the frigid winter temperatures and the fear of glaciers drifting in from the snowfields. Miranda carefully avoided Meru if she could get away with it, but no one could possibly stay away from a determined wingly forever. Luckily Meru hated being out on the waters, getting seasick rather easily. For a Blue Water Dragoon, it made little sense, but was reality all the same. It allowed Miranda some sanity from time to time. She spent her time in her cabin, down below, or on the upper deck, watching the sea spray rock the boat gently along the ocean's surface. Seagulls gathered high above to circle, their high pitched cries demanding someone drop food to fill their bellies. Occasionally Miranda brought up bits of bread from the kitchens and tossed it out to the water, watching the white bodies dive and dip, clamoring among one another to see who would get her offerings first.

When they docked in Tiberoa, Meru begged for a night's reprieve from the rolling of the ship.

"I can't stand it," she confessed to Miranda sheepishly. "It's always wet, it moves and bucks like a burden beast and makes me feel dizzy and sick. Can't we stay at an inn tonight, pretty please?"

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest, smirking at the wingly before sharply saying, "Meru, you shouldn't be so weak, are you a Dragoon or a mouse?"

Meru's fists clenched and she bounced up and down, feet stomping on the deck with loud, hollow thumps. "I am not weak! I just... " she paused then, face turning a bit green as the boat lurched again under the pitched seas as they drew nearer to the docks. "I'm a mouse!" she said hurriedly and ran toward the edge of the deck to heave her lunch into the water.

Fletz was as lovely as ever, filled with gardens and flowers rivaled only by Donau to the north. Living in far colder climates, Miranda hadn't really seen plant life beyond the snow flowers that bloomed for only a few months in Mille Seseau's spring season. Her adventures during the Dragon Conflict left her far more worldly, and like most of the others, the experience matured her. Well, excepting maybe Meru and Haschel, who never seemed to grow up no matter how old they got. Or at least... they never acted on their wisdom publicly. Miranda had seen moments of maturity in them both from time to time. It made her wonder how the others viewed her.

Deciding to honor Meru's request, the Sacred Sister ordered everyone to disembark unless necessary for the ship's functions while in port. For the evening everyone would enjoy themselves in Fletz, so long as they stayed out of trouble. Such generosity was rare from their Sacred Sister, and a few scratched their heads at her and then shrugged. She knew the truth of the delay, however. Another day in Fletz meant one more day away from Serdio. Already she prepared some sort of apology in her mind for Albert, though if she could deliver it without insulting him again was beyong her ken. Miranda came from bad beginnings and even after years of courtly training as First among the Sacred Sisters, her tongue often did as it will when her mind commanded. So did her hands. Though she no longer slapped her soldiers quite as often, there were still times that her temper got the better of her when faced with cowardice or idiocy.

But, she wasn't in town for more than a few hours when a visitor came calling.

Sitting at a table in the inn's common room, Meru had just begun chatting Miranda's ears off about some of her adventures up in Donau when a cloaked figure entered the front door and glanced around until spying the wingly and Sacred Sister's whereabouts. Miranda glanced up as she noticed the approach. The figure was feminine, discernable even under the thick folds of the lavender colored cloak, though the hood was raised to hide the woman's features in shadow.

"Excuse me," a quiet voiced asked, "But are you First Sacred Sister Miranda of Mille Seseau?"

"I am," Miranda replied somewhat warily.

A hand crept out from the folds of the cloak, resting daintily against the woman's chest as she slumped in relief. "Oh thank goodness, I had hoped to catch you before you left for Serdio." She reached up then and pulled back the hood, revealing a doll-like face painted with coal and color. It was none other than the Princess Lisa herself. "Please, may I join you? I... I have a request if you would hear me out."

"We met once before, Your Highness, but it was a long time ago now," Miranda said politely, gesturing for the Princess to claim the seat across from her. Meru fell uncharacteristically silent, staring now. "Meru, why don't you go find out if they've moored properly at the docks for me, hmm?"

Meru's mouth opened to protest that, until she saw the stubborn ire narrowing Miranda's eyes dangerously and the slight lifting of her hand as if she just might slap the wingly for noncompliance. "Ok, ok! Chill out, Miranda!" She sighed in exasperation and shoved herself away from the table before bouncing out the door to the inn. "I have better things to do than sit and watch royalty talk anyway!"

As soon as the wingly had departed, Lisa turned back to Miranda, "I'll be quick about it, I haven't much time but I didn't trust this to a servant, I wanted to see it personally delivered to your hands." With that she pulled a letter from the pocket of her cloak. Parchment sealed with wax and the sigil of Tiberoan's royal dynasty. "I need this delivered to my sister, the Princess Emille."

Were she not in polite company, Miranda would have groaned aloud. Deliver a letter to Emille? That would put her directly into the line of fire. She wouldn't have a choice but to face Albert or his betrothed. So much for laying low while in Bale. She reached out and took the letter from Lisa, turning it over a few times between gloved fingers.

"Very well, I will do as you ask."

Slumping again, Lisa rested her hands against the tabletop. "Thank you, truly I do appreciate this. Please, see it straight to my sister's hands if I could ask this one last thing of you. Don't... don't let Albert know of it. I beg you. This is very very important, Sister Miranda."

Any excuse to avoid the King of Serdio was fine by Miranda. She tucked the letter into her belt pouch and reached over to pat Lisa's hand. "As you ask, so shall it be done, Your Highness."

And that was apparently that, the Princess departing the inn after a few more gushing words of thanks and praise for Miranda. In the aftermath, she pulled the letter from the pouch and stared at the wax sealing. No, she had no intention of opening the letter, but her curiosity was piqued. Why would Lisa want this delivered in such secrecy? And why not trust a servant to do the delivering?

"Oooh, what do you think is in there? Hey... think we can open it and find out?" Meru's musical voice startled Miranda to the point that she very nearly let her chair lean back to far and had to regain her balance.

"Meru! I thought you left!"

The wingly grinned sheepishly, plopping herself down in the chair vacated by Lisa. "Well... I kinda snuck back around and listened. Wasn't that all mysterious? Wow, wonder what she's up to that she doesn't want Albert to know about!" Quickly Miranda tucked the letter back into her belt pouch.

"That is neither my business nor yours. I agreed to deliver the letter to Emille only, and I intend to do so. Don't even _think_ of trying to open it."

"Aw, you're no fun," Meru sighed in disappointment.

Night in Serdio meant torchlamps scattered across the cityscape, beacons for those leaving shops or abodes at late hours. They danced and flickered with the evening breezes, sometimes snuffed out only to be relit a few minutes later by one of the city guards. Once Albert had taken Emille everywhere at this time, so she might know the beauty of Bale even after dark. She fell in love with the quaint little city and all of its quirks. Or so she believed when first she arrived. Looking over it now, she found the same sights and smells and sensations to be terribly dull to her. Only the night sky and its blanket of stars tugged at her heartstrings, reminding her of home and the beauty of Fletz.

How it saddened her to realize her love for Bale had been nothing more than an extension of her infatuation with Albert. A fire that had died to an ember and even that threatened to be snuffed eventually. Oh Lisa warned her against this, against moving too quickly and leaving behind her homeland to live here while Albert courted her. She should have listened. Perhaps she would not quite be in the pickle she was now. Far from home, and questioning herself and her love for the King of Serdio.

What pained her more was seeing how desperately Albert tried to please her. It left a terrible burden of guilt nestled on her shoulders, refusing to lessen its weight and even growing steadily heavier as the days passed. She once cared deeply for him and did still. Simply not in the same passionate manner that first engulfed her when she met him after her six month slumber. Then, of course, there were Haschel's words still ringing in her ears. That was the catalyst, she realized. To hear how Miranda and Albert made eyes at one another during the Dragon Conflict. At first it angered her, hurt so badly she could not sleep for days. Then she grew numb and slowly her fire for the King died. How could she love a man who might not love her fully in return? After all, she heard how he had been in love with one of his knights. A knight who died not but a few months before she met him. Could he call it love for her when it could only be his aching heart seeking solace with another instead?

Too many questions, too many doubts. And here Emille remained, afraid and alone and falling out of love.

She sighed, brushing back a few locks of gold hair that dared pull free of her headdress. Leaning against the parapet, she watched the night skies and the smattering of sparkling stars set in an inky, velvet backdrop. If only she had Lisa's talent, to be able to communicate with the stars above. To know things others could never fathom. Perhaps she might have had her answers long before now. It left her to wonder about her sister, about the letter requesting her visionary guidance. She hoped to hear from her soon, though in the end it wouldn't matter. Albert promised to send her back home for a visit after the naming ceremony for Dart and Shana's child. Soon she would be able to see her sister in the flesh and hug her tightly.

She withdrew, then, lest the stars only depress her further. Back into the twisty corridors of the castle she went, winding down staircases toward the guest suites. Lost in thought, she drifted without paying attention to where she went, having long ago learned how to navigate the twisty hallways. At least until finally she realized she had made a wrong turn somewhere. Looking up, she found herself standing in front of the doors leading to the Dragoon Chamber, or so it had been dubbed when Albert stored the last remaining Dragoon Spirits here after Dart handed them over.

Frowning, Emille wondered how in the world her feet lead her here. It was no where near her chambers in the guest quarter. She took a step back as if to turn, when it suddenly dawned on her that there was no guard posted. Unusual, since Albert kept the room constantly under surveillance. Such powerful relics as the Dragoon Spirits should not fall into the hands of those who would use them for evil. By all rights, she should have turned and left, alerted someone to the oddity. But curiosity drove her forward, or perhaps it was something completely beyond her control.

The door opened without so much as a squeak, though Emille slowly pushed it inwards just in case. Within the room was empty save for three pedestals patterned in a triangular manner. On each rested a colored stone, black for the Dark Dragoon, red for the Red Eye Dragoon and the swirling colors of the Divine Dragoon Spirit. They glinted dully, as if watching what the princess would do, sentient in their own manner. She stepped forward and the door shut of its own accord behind her, bringing her to whirl around, startled. But all the tugging in the world would not bring the door to budge again for her. Feeling her panic grow, she began to pound on the wood with her fists, "Help, someone, anyone? The door is stuck!" But there was no guard outside, no one to hear her frantic pleas.

The sudden purplesque light in the room drew her around again, attention back on the Dragoon Spirits. She gasped, terror crawling up her spine as she pressed her back against the door, one hand lifting to shield her eyes from the sudden light. It faded just enough for her to squint toward the pedestals and realize it enaminated from the Dark Dragoon Spirit. Calling to her with a siren's song. Could this be true? Could a Dragoon Spirit have chosen her? Curious far more than afraid, now, she pushed away from the door, closing in on the pedestal to reach for the Spirit.

Haschel awoke with a start. The silence of the room weighed down on him, heavy and oppressive in the remnants of the dream that now shattered and began fading to the recesses of his mind. He sat up almost immediately, throwing aside sweat drenched bedding in order to cool down faster. His muscles were tense, and blankets tangled as if he struggled while dreaming. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eye briefly and reached for the inner calm he had taken years to master. It only took a moment and he felt he finally had control back. 

Strange that he would have a nightmare again. Ever since finding out Claire's fate and learning that he had a grandson in Dart, his sleep had been peaceful at last. No more nightmares of what might have become of his long lost daughter. Her spirit, in essence, had finally be laid to rest and the mysteries with it. Now came this new nightmare, nothing like the old ones of seeing Claire again and being rejected. This one had to do with dragons. Already fuzzy, the most he could recall was seeing the Violet Dragon of Thunder standing before him, speaking to him as if it carried a human intellect instead of the lesser intelligence granted to all dragons by the creator, Soa. And then he found himself battling it before at last he found the freedom of consciousness.

In the darkness, he searched for the Dragoon Spirit. Miranda had them all fashioned into pendants after the Dragoon Conflict, easily remaining with their keepers on long silver or gold chains. It also cut down on the chance that they might be stolen, as Dart's had been not once but twice. The twisty gold chain disappeared beneath his nightshift, but as he tried tugging on it, he gasped in pain. It felt stuck to his flesh, burning as he attempted to pull the pendant up to gaze at it. Suddenly panicked, he pulled the shift open, staring at the purple stone in horror.

It was melded to the flesh of his chest, the left side. Just over his heart. Sunken ever so slightly, yet obviously wanting to dig deeper.

What in the world was going on? What form of diabolic sorcery was this? He touched the stone, finding it warm from his body heat. It moved no further, simply refusing to be pried away from his flesh.

Footfalls echoed down the hallway, followed by the knock to another of the doors to the guest rooms. Haschel recognized the rumbling step of the Gigantos and rose from his bed to drift out to the corridor beyond. Kongol stood so tall that he almost had to duck in the tall corridors of the Serdian castle. It appeared that he, too, had just woken from his slumber and when he turned toward Haschel, the Golden Dragoon Spirit glinted in the dimly lit hallway.

Like Haschel's, it had begun to bury itself within Kongol's chest. Same position, just over the heart.

"What is it?" a bleary voice asked as the door finally opened. Dart peered out, sleepy eyes squinting at Kongol and then Haschel. Blonde hair was tousled, his night shirt half buttoned and misbuttoned, too, as he he hastily threw it on when Kongol's fist rapped against his door at a volume too loud to be ignored.

"It appears we have a bit of a problem, Dart," Haschel replied with a weary sounding sigh. It made sense that no nightmare plagued Dart or Shana, for they had given up their Dragoon Spirits a long time ago.

"Kongol no like pain in night. Bad dream, see dragon, fight dragon," Kongol added. The Gold Dragoon Spirit began to glow mutely, then, allowing Dart's sleepy gaze to at notice it at last. Blue eyes widened in stark surprise.

"Good lord... how did that..." he reached up toward the Gigantos' chest, fingers brushing over the Spirit momentarily before withdrawing. "Can it be removed?"

"Not without a lot of pain," Haschel replied. "I tried already. I'm sure Kongol has, too." The muted nod from the Gigantos confirmed this.

"Ah, dammit," Dart sighed, rubbing at his sleep encrusted eyes again as his sleepy brain attempted to make sense of it all. "Lemme get dressed, if you guys had this happen, I bet Albert did, too. We better check on him." And he disappeared behind the door again after Haschel and Kongol nodded in agreement, each turning toward their quarters to quietly dress. Haschel prodded the stone occasionally while he donned his normal clothing, but it never moved, glinting at him lazily for the attempt.

By the time the three gathered outside in the hallway again, the sound of footfalls down the corridor hailed another arrival, that of one of Albert's Knights. He saluted once, stance kept perfect while he announced, "The King has requested your presence in his parlor if you're-- well, you are awake so please follow me." It made sense that Albert would be awake, and the three expected to see him in circumstances similar to Haschel's and Kongol's.

The parlor was awash with light, brighter than the dim torches that lined the hallways. Albert stood at the far end of the room, dressed already in plain doeskin breeches and a loose green tunic. He turned as the others arrived, smiling wanly at them. "Greetings, thank you for coming so quickly. There is a bit of a problem..."

"We know, Majesty," Haschel began and drew aside the fabric of his shirt to reveal the partially sunken Dragoon Spirit. Kongol's was already visible beneath the leather harness he always wore. Albert's visage paled slightly, reaching up to touch the area over his heart, where all of them knew the Jade Dragoon Spirit had probably begun to fasten to the King's flesh.

"I see... so this is not only my own problem, but all of ours. I have to wonder what this means, what it signifies," he mused aloud.

Haschel chuckled aloud and shrugged, "Maybe we should have been smart like Dart and given our Spirits up." No one joined him in enjoying the ironic humor value of it all.

"Kongol," Dart spoke up then, "You mentioned that you saw a dragon in your dream?"

"So did I," Albert cut in, "The Jade Dragon, in fact."

"Me too," Haschel added with a nod. "It seems we all dreamed we were fighting against the very Dragon whose spirit we held... and sometime during the battle our Spirits began attaching themselves to us."

"Then it's safe to say that this is only the beginning," Albert assessed with a sigh. "And it's not all either. Someone broke into the Dragoon Chamber."

Everyone froze then, staring at the King as if he'd grown a second head. Albert grimaced for admitting it, since he'd gone to such great lengths to make sure the chamber remained carefully and closely guarded. "The Dark Dragoon Spirit has been stolen..."

(To be continued...)


	3. Here There Be Dragons

**Chapter 3: Here There Be Dragons**

_It began somewhere back in Mille Seseau, past the snowfields and into the glaciers. The arctic weather blasted past her cheeks with winter's force but Miranda trudged forward. Had it always been this cold? For as long as she could remember she had come here to escape the abuse of her past, to gather her thoughts. Even with the predators that roamed this cold plain, she felt at home. The glacier was nearly unexplored and yet she knew every corner, every cave and every bend in the snowy path before her. It was hers, almost solely hers. The frigid temperatures she grew acclimated to and eventually preferred over the short summer months of Mille Seseau. She often felt she was like this wintry place, dark and cold inside. _

That changed when she finally found her destiny, chosen by the Silver-White Dragoon Spirit after it abandoned Shana. The pendant always dangled from her neck now, the pearlesque glow always near to her heart. A reminder of what had come to pass and her responsibility not only as a Sacred Sister, but as a Dragoon.

The path took a new twist, and it startled her. When had that opened up? Had it be too long since she traveled into the snowfields? Since the rebuilding of Deningrad and the Crystal Palace began, she found she rarely had time for herself anymore and that meant her trips further north were fewer and far between. But that hardly gave time for an entirely new pathway to open up out of the blue. Nocking her bow, she carefully stepped through the snow strewn pathway. Something felt... wrong about this.

Snow began to drift toward the surface of the earth, fluffy white puffs of crystallized water gently swaying in the wind. The packed snow already at her feet crunched beneath her boots and her breath misted past her lips with a white fog. Ahead she could see the rising of steam, undulating toward the sky before disappearing in wispy vapors. The ground vibrated as if something rather large shifted its weight. The Sacred Sister halted her forward progression, lowering the bow slightly to stare at what soon blocked her path.

Beautiful. Simply beautiful. Her jaw slackened, lips parting as her eyes widened. The creature before her canted a reptilian head in her direction, silver-white scales gleaming beneath the winter sun. It stood nearly as high as the Crystal Palace itself, a sinuous tail curling around slender, graceful limbs. The White-Silver Dragon.

"You shouldn't stare, it's rude," the creature spoke aloud, belying the tales of dragons' low intelligence. The voice echoed like distant windchimes, breath huffed out in white mists. "But you are a rude little girl, aren't you."

Miranda snapped her jaw shut, lowering the bow to one hand while she settled a hand on her hip. No one, not even a dragon, spoke to the First Sacred Sister of Mille Seseau like that. "How did you get here, have you always been here? How is it that dragons can talk?"

The dragon snorted with a derisive sound, shifting its weight again. The tail uncoiled from around its legs and crashed into a block of snow and ice, showering them both with a spray of snow. "Be quiet. You silly little humans, thinking that you can replace the winglies. Dominate us as they dominated you once upon a time. Dragons have tolerated this for too long. It is time for our liberation. And it will begin with you, Dragoon. You have my Spirit and I will have it back."

Miranda leapt back suddenly as the great head gave her no chance to form a reply, snapping forward to catch her within its strong, lethal jaws. Falling back into the snow, the ground vibrated again as the snout struck the snow in front of her, Miranda leapt back to her feet, nocking the bow to take quick aim and fire an arrow off at the first thing she could target. With the head so close to her, she quickly honed in on a spot she knew was vulnerable, the eye.

A howl echoed through the frosty canyons of the snowfields as the dragon quickly lifted its head, swaying back and forth in pain from the tiny arrow embedded in its eye. The ground trembled beneath its trembling weight and all around came sudden drifts of snow. Miranda realized too late that it meant the possibility of an avalanche. She reacted by instinct, grasping the silver-white pendant around her throat and calling upon the very Spirit that the howling dragon demanded she return. If she could gain altitude in Dragoon form, she could escape being buried alive under mounds of snow.

With a flash, she felt the familiar calling of her armor and powers. But there came a twist, a painful twist. The stone suddenly burnt her hand and with a hiss of pain she released it, feeling it fall against her chest. The dragon roared and whipped its head back around toward her, jaw wide and teeth glinting in the light...

She awoke with a start, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. The dream began to fade almost immediately, but the sensation of cold couldn't be swept away, or the burning of her hand. Tossing coverlets aside, she raced for the ship's portal to hold her hand out under the moonlight. Her palm was an angry red, blistered toward the center. That was more than a dream.

"Miranda, Miranda!" came a desperate and pained voice. Meru pounded on the door to Miranda's room with her fists, sounding uncharacteristically terrified. The Sacred Sister turned, rushing to unlatch the lock and fling the door open, only to suddenly have her arms full of a frightened wingly.

"It won't come off! It hurts if I try!" the wingly wailed, clutching Miranda's waist as if she were a life raft in a pitched sea. "I had this really bad dream that I was fighting the Blue Water Dragon and then I woke up and it won't come off!"

"Shhh," Miranda soothed, stroking Meru's tousled platinum hair before pulling back, hands settled on the girl's shoulders. "Ok, calm down. Stop crying, Meru. I can't help you if you don't get a hold of yourself. Don't make me slap you."

The threat was enough to get Meru to let go of her, sniffling now rather than sobbing and wailing. "It's this..." she drew her robe back enough to reveal the Blue Dragoon Spirit, fastened to her skin just above her left breast. Startled, Miranda stared at it for a moment and then reached to tug at the silver chain the pendant was attached to. Meru shrieked and leapt back from her, slapping a hand over the Spirit immediately. "No, don't touch it! It hurts if you try to pull on it!"

Miranda sighed and reached up to find her own Spirit, blinking suddenly as she touched it and found it... over her heart. Pulling the down the strap to her nightshift, she blinked, horrified by the sight of her own spirit latched against her flesh, in the same general area Meru's had fastened. "What in the name of the Divine Tree is going on?"

"I don't know, but I'm scared," Meru admitted, toeing at the ground with a bare foot. "Did you have a dream about a dragon, too?"

Miranda nodded absently, giving the chain a little tug and wincing at the shot of pain lancing through her shoulder. Meru, it seemed, wasn't kidding or being a weak crybaby over it. "I don't know what's going on, but we can't do anything about it right now. We'll be in port in a few hours, perhaps the others have some sort of clue as to what is going on."

"You think I'm gonna go back to sleep after that?" Meru cried, hands resting on her hips now.

Miranda chuckled and shook her head. "Me either. Get dressed, we'll hang out on the deck till we reach port."

Miranda and Meru's ship docked in the wee hours of the morning, a time when most of the world still slumbered. They prepared to disembark, gathering their supplies before heading into the port city to purchase burden beasts and make the last trek out toward Bale, the capitol of a united Serdio. They tried not to talk about the oddities of their Dragoon Spirits. Meru blatantly refused to touch hers while Miranda made a few more attempts to remove it, giving in only after she'd caused herself enough pain. Though tired, she knew she wouldn't have been able to sleep after that and quietly wondered if this only affected herself and Meru, or if the others had experienced similar dreams.

The question was answered for her as she followed a bouncing Meru down the gangplank.

Standing on the dock, waiting for her and Meru, stood Dart, Haschel, Kongol and even Albert. Miranda felt her heart pound a little faster just in looking at the King's regal features, but quickly smoothed her expression and forced herself to look away. Damn Meru and her tauntings, now she had the Sacred Sister constantly monitoring how she looked or acted around Albert! "Hmmm. I take it you aren't here as a welcoming committee, are you."

Meru, on the other hand, completely forgot the seriousness of the night previous and squealed to see everyone gathered. "Dart! Haschel! Kongol! Albert!" She raced forward and danced through each of them, glomping to them all in turn even if all she got back was a startled snug. "Hey, where's Shana?"

"She's back in Bale with the baby," Dart replied, "We're here for other reasons."

"Oh," Meru replied, crestfallen now and sobering significantly. "Does it have anything to do with this?" And drawing aside the strap to her gown, she revealed the Dragoon Spirit against her chest. Dart frowned and Albert sighed, lowering his head into a gloved hand.

"I had prayed that perhaps you two had been spared," the king said quietly as he looked up again, "And you Miranda?"

The Sacred Sister nodded, absently touching at the spot where her spirit rested beneath her blouse. "I suppose everyone had a similar dream, too? Battle the Dragon for your Spirit?"

Dart lifted a hand then, asking for silence before any of them could answer. "Let's not talk about this here... come on, we have rooms at the inn. We have to figure out what's going on here. What this means."

Albert usually sought her out by now.

Emille curled up in her bed, moaning softly at the pain such a simple movement caused her. Normally one took it for granted being able to move without agony, but every twist and every turn seized her muscles, cramping them horribly. She dreamed of dragons attacking her, consuming her very soul and on waking found the newly acquired Spirit attached and sinking into her breast.

Now dark scales glistened against her forearms, slowly writhing toward her shoulders. She dare not try to look at her legs, knowing she would see the same. Her voice could not work beyond her soft moans and her tears remained silently, cascading down darkening cheeks. How long had she prayed Albert would come to her? Worry that her absence meant something was wrong and would eventually seek her out and realize her fate. But it had been so long, so many hours and her would-be husband had not come calling. No one did. Was this what Albert fought every day to maintain his Spirit? She had not the willpower or conviction to fight against the dragon overtaking her body.

Alone and frightened, she closed her eyes one last time and succumbed to the dark and bitter beast within.

In the wee hours of the morning, Bale's citizenry slept soundly and peacefully, unaware of the imminent danger. It began with a rumble, a tremor snaking through the sleepy city that grew in proportions until houses rattled and cobblestones shook in their places. People woke suddenly and rushed toward doorways, terrified of this sudden earthquake in a land that never knew such natural disasters. A few dared venture outside, to see how the castle itself shook violently, like a tree caught in a windstorm. The first tower erupted in a shower of stone and dust, raining powdery mortar and chunks of granite over the city, damaging rooftops and tearing through awnings. At last the tremors came to an end, only to echo again with the demonic roar of a thing thought long since extinct.

Rearing a sinuous head toward the sky, the Black Burst Dragon trumpeted to the heavens triumphantly in the wee morning hours of false dawn. Clawed feet held fast to the remnants of the first tower before dark, leathery wings spread wide and caught the thermals, lifting into the air with ease to shadow the city, flickering torches along the walkways as it flew overhead and disappeared into the night.


	4. Thin Ice

**Chapter 4: Thin Ice**

Albert could not be consoled when they returned to Bale. Rumor had not gone far, reached only the closest of villages to the capital of Serdio, but as the group got wind of it, they practically had to restrain the sovereign to keep him from rushing foolishly out into the countryside to get to Indels faster. Sullen and thoughtful, he spoke little during the short trek back into the city and the moment they crossed the threshold, he left his burden beast at the gate and ran across the cobblestones. Dart called after him and gave chase, with Haschel and Meru at his heels. Only Miranda and Kongol remained behind to find their way through the city at their leisure.

"Kongol not understand. Why Human King so upset over castle breaking?" the Gigantos asked, voice rumbling with concern. Miranda shrugged her shoulders and looked toward the ruins of Indels. Her throat constricted, thickening to observe how the tower had crumbled. Mortar dust and limestone chunks had sprayed over all of Bale, some of which had yet to be cleaned. She understood Albert's panic, his need to see to his people and his friends. She felt the same way when Deningrad fell under the might of the Divine Dragon. But, how to put it into terms that a Gigantos would understand was beyond her ken and patience. Albert and Haschel were far better and enlightening Kongol's limited ability to comprehend humanity. It wasn't that he was stupid, far from it. It was simply that his people lived far differently, far more _naturally_ than humans did and sometimes their ways confused him.

"Because inside of the castle were people that Albert cares about, Kongol. People who might have been hurt," she finally ventured. To her relief, the Gigantos nodded solemnly and lapsed into thoughtful silence as they both came to the staircase that lead into Indels. Most of the castle remained intact, all but the first tower. Glistening beneath the sun, Miranda realized she could make out the spiral staircase somewhat, but the rest of it was gone completely. It had been the guest wing, where Princess Emille had been residing for quite some time.

"No wonder he was so anxious to return," the Sacred Sister mused. Realizing she spoke aloud, a gloved hand waved off the askance in Kongol's eyes. "I'm talking to myself."

The pair entered the chaos of the castle, finding a number of Knights lining the staircase, armed and nervous by their stances. A Black Burst Dragon had attacked them, or so the claims were made, and everyone knew that dragons were nigh impossible to defeat for humans. It took a special sort to be able to tackle their ilk. A Dragoon, specifically. Miranda idly touched the stone she knew remained fused to her flesh, feeling its warmth beneath her blouse. If dragons managed to somehow overpower their Dragoon masters, where would that leave humanity?

Indeed, who had seen a dragon lately anyway? The last Miranda knew of had been the Blue Gill dragon defeated by the others before they ever came to her homeland. Or the Divine Dragon, who was one of a kind. Albert mentioned Feyrbrand, too. But since the end of the Dragon Conflict, there had not been a single sighting of an actual dragon beyond a few rumors that lead to cold trails and false allegations. There were no dragons anymore, only their Spirits remained.

"Just leave him alone, Dart!" Haschel's voice echoed from down the corridor as Miranda and Kongol eventually caught up with the rest of the group. Dart, Shana, Meru, and Haschel all stood before the looming doors to the Dragoon Chamber. Dart growled something unintelligible, clearly frustrated. Shana hung back, rocking the child in her arms back and forth and shushing it back to sleep while Meru stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at the babe despite all the tension and anxiety in the air.

"It's no use, Dart. Let's leave him alone for now, we can gather later to discuss this," Haschel repeated himself, reaching out toward his grandson to rest a hand against his shoulder. Dart turned his head sharply, blonde locks swaying with the motion and his eyes betrayed the ire and frustration dominating his thoughts.

"It's not--" he began and then cut himself off, sighing finally in resignation with his shoulders slumping, "I just worry, Albert's my friend. I don't like feeling so, so helpless!"

Haschel smiled ruefully and nodded. "I know, Dart. He's my friend, too. But, I think we all know what it's like to lose someone important in our lives." Turning toward the door, he raised his voice to shout past the locked and barred barrier. "Albert! We'll leave you be for now, but come on out when you feel ready to talk to us again!"

With that, he patted Dart's shoulder and gestured for everyone to follow him back down the corridor. Only Miranda hung back, her steps slowing and halting altogether as she looked back toward the double doors from over her shoulder. Watching to make sure the others didn't realize she'd fallen behind, she began to back pedal, pausing before the Dragoon Chamber before resting her hands against it, pressing her cheek to the cool wood and brass fittings. "Albert?" she said, her voice loud enough to carry past the thick doors but quiet enough not to attract attention from elsewhere. "I'm sorry. For everything. If I could bring her back to you, I would."

The suddenness of the door's opening nearly brought Miranda stumbling into the Dragon Chamber. Instead, she found herself pressed against the taller frame of the King of Serdio. Albert caught her, surprised and startled even in his grief. "Miranda?" His hands rested against her hips at first, and then with the shock of her presence wearing off he had the good sense to brace them against her shoulders instead. Face flushed with chagrin, she straightened immediately, brushing back at her hair and smoothing the fabric of her skirt.

"Aye, Your Majesty. I... should have apologized a long time ago. Her Highness did not deserve my comments, I wish it were not too late to apologize to her personally."

"Oh Miranda," Albert lamented with a exasperated sigh and a shake of his head. Then, he pulled her into the chamber before closing and barring the doors again.

Meru held her hands over her ears, eyes nearly squinted shut to block out the horrendous wail of the babe in Shana's arms. She had never really been exposed to that many babies, being the youngest of her wingly siblings. Besides, Wingly children weren't that loud, were they? Shana eventually got up, excusing herself from the rest of the group. "I think he's hungry. I'll be back later. No, Dart--" she said to her husband with a shake of her head as he got up to follow her, "You stay here, I'm not involved with this but I understand that you are. Albert's my friend, too." And with that, she left the room, the sound of squalling fading with her distance.

"Wow... human children are sure loud," Meru commented, rubbing at her ear as if that might chase away the memory of the disturbing wail.

"You should hear him at three in the morning," Dart added, chuckling softly. "Shana's good with children, though. He'll be quiet soon enough."

"Does she sing that lullaby to him?" Haschel couldn't help but ask, a fond crinkle to his aging eyes with the memory of his own daughter creating the very tune that soothed his grandson and now his great grandson to sleep at night. Dart smiled and nodded. It was strange to them both to have known one another for so long and only recently realized the bond they both shared through Claire.

"Kongol never see Gigantos babe cry so loud. Humans dominate for loud voices?"

At first, everyone stared at Kongol as if they believed him dense again, his ignorance of the world displayed in the questions he persisted in asking. But there was a glint of wry humor in the Gigantos warrior's eyes and after a shocking moment of silence and realization, the others digested the joke and all of them began laughing. Even Kongol, eyes shining with pride at having made a funny, joined in the humor he normally did not partake of. His friends, he knew now, were the only people in the world who laughed with him, not at him.

"By the Gods, I think Kongol's finally figured it out! What a plot humanity has wrought! We shall dominate by the sheer volume of our voices!" Haschel hooted. Dart and Meru laughed even harder, the Wingly clutching her stomach until she suddenly and unceremoniously tipped backwards in her seat and landed on the tile flooring. It only made the laughter that much louder.

"Hey, that's not funny!" Meru cried and yet she giggled despite herself, remaining flat on her back until Kongol reached down to help her back up to her feet. "Hey..." she trailed off, dusting her skirt-tails with her hands as gold eyes darted about the room furtively. "We're missing a Miranda. Where'd she go?"

The laughter faded, then, even if the mirth remained in their countenances. Dart took quick inventory of those present with a flick of his eyes and suddenly gold brows furrowed in contemplation. "I don't know. Last I saw of her was back at the Dragoon Chamber, I think. Did she fall behind?"

Meru snorted derisively, then, fitting her hands onto her hips, "I bet she stayed behind to touch lips with Albert."

"Meru!" Haschel scolded. The Wingly lowered her gaze to the floor, shuffling her toes against the tiles there absently with her chagrin, believing the scolding had been issued for her badly placed comment. But, she had a habit of opening her mouth at the wrong time.

"It's called kissing," Haschel finally corrected and couldn't help but grin at the wingly as her head lifted suddenly and she stomped her foot to realize she'd been fooled.

Dart cleared his throat then, finding the whole conversation amusing, but not terribly realistic. "Should we look for her or you think she'll catch up with the rest of us later?"

"Miranda's a big girl," Haschel replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Maybe she did stay behind to talk to Albert, who knows. She'll find us when she's ready to. Unless you think she's in danger or something, which I doubt."

Dart nodded in agreement with Kongol mimicking the motion while Meru rubbed at her nose idly, glancing toward the exit to the dining hall. "Hey... I hear someone coming, Shana, is that you?"

The doors swung open to reveal a pair of Knights dressed in their serdian armor. "If you would please come with us, Minister Noish has asked that you speak to him."

Sighing in relief, Shana walked the halls of Indels Castle quietly, enjoying the solitude and the fact that her son now slept peacefully in her arms again, his cries silenced now that she had the time to see to his needs. His birth was a blessing, for it fulfilled all of Shana's dreams at last. How it staggered her to realize two years had passed since her ordeals in the Dragon Conflict. Married to the only man she'd ever wanted to love and now the mother to his child. She smiled gently, smoothing back the smattering of pale hair atop the babe's head. Still unnamed, she wondered what Dart would eventually settle on. Her suggestions so far had been mused over, but no decision rendered, yet. She felt Zieg was a perfect name, just as she wanted a daughter someday to name after Rose, but Dart hesitated to agree with her and Shana could never insist on something if her husband didn't want it. She wasn't like Miranda, demanding and strong willed, defering instead to the tradition of being housewife and mother.

The sound of voices drew her out of her reverie suddenly. She glanced up in time to realize she'd wandered back down toward the Dragoon Chamber. Pausing, she began to pivot when she recognized one of the voices as Albert and then the other as Miranda. Curiosity propelled her forward, after that. Shana never considered herself noisy or an eavesdropper, but last she knew Albert refused to speak with anyone and locked himself away to have time to think. How did Miranda somehow manage to convince him to let her in?

"... shouldn't worry over it. I'd gotten over it a long time ago, so please don't apologize again," Albert said.

"Albert..." came Miranda's imploring voice, "... what happened?"

"This is my own guilt, Miranda. Emille and I... she knows about that night, what we-- I couldn't lie to her. I can't help but believe my infidelity is what somehow caused this in the end."

Shana blinked, lifting her free hand to splay fingers over her mouth as her jaw slackened. The rest of the conversation fell to deaf ears, shame brightening the Moonchild's cheeks with a splash of crimson. She had no right to overhear this, not something so personal between Albert and Miranda. But it certainly answered a lot of questions that nagged at the back of her mind, things long ago forgotten and now suddenly resurfacing. Feeling sick and disgusted with herself, she darted away from the doors before another word could register within her earshot.

The Dragoon Chamber hardly needed the torchlight that lined the wall from fixed sconces. Atop two of the three pedestals that dominated the room shone the bright red and golden-white light of the Red-Eye and Divine Dragoon Spirits. Just in sensing two other Spirits within the room, they glowed with an incandescent light, responding with a low crooning that only Dragoons could detect. The call of one Dragoon to another. Miranda turned her back to the brightness, concentrating her gaze on the king before her and the melancholy gaze that dominated aristocratic features. Despite herself, she could not help the sudden rapidity to her heartbeat, the thickness in her throat that simply could not be swallowed away. To look at him was to behold Adonis in all his glory.

"You shouldn't speak of that as if we had lain together, Albert," she finally croaked, cheeks flushing to realize how hoarse her voice sounded. "What we shared was nothing more than a moment of weakness between two people who needed to share comfort in desperate times. Your love for Emille never wavered, I refuse to believe it did."

Albert chuckled ruefully, shaking his head again as hazelnut eyes lifted to seek out Miranda's sky hued gaze. She felt naked when he looked at her, as if he could somehow read her very thoughts, know the truth of her feelings psychically. "No, Miranda, my love for Lavitz never wavered. Emille? I-- I have done her a great injustice. And you, as well. I have not been honest with myself and it has come around full circle. Now Emille has paid for my mistakes."

Gold brows furrowed, Miranda giving the king a quizzical look. "I don't understand... I know that Lavitz was your lover once but--"

"He was more than that!" Albert snapped reflexively. Shoulders slumped afterwards, sighing ruefully, "Forgive me, I shouldn't snap at you. You're innocent of this."

To her chagrin, Miranda felt her anger die at the sound of his voice. No one yelled at the First Sacred Sister of Mille Seseau, not unless one wanted to receive the same in kind. She fit gloved hands on her hips, caught in the limbo of anger and concern cloying like vastly different perfumes. "Forgiven, this time. But I cannot read your mind, Albert. I never knew Lavitz other than our battle at Mayfil. All I know is what Haschel told me, that he lived and died for you. Love like that... is something out of the fairy tales. I didn't mean to imply that he's just another conquest of yours."

Hazelnut eyes closed, then, Albert breathing in deeply while gathering his thoughts. "Miranda, no matter who I might marry, who I might love in the future, Lavitz will forever overshadow them. To love someone that deeply is not something that ends upon death, it is eternal. Remember that."

He turned from her then, the green cloak swirling around his regal figure while his boots clacked against the tile flooring, carrying him to the doors to unlatch them at last and disappear to the corridor beyond. She remained where she stood, feeling that her legs might turn to gelatin and refuse to carry her if she followed. Why did she care? Miranda had learned long ago how to rely on herself and herself alone. Abandoned at a young age by her mother, forced to care for a drunk and ailing father, she knew well the price of relying on others for support. Yet, even as she sank to her knees to rest before one of the Dragoon Spirit pedestals, all she could think of was the look of despair in Albert's eyes. He still grieved for Lavitz, and couldn't even see the love in front of him for what it really was.

Sky hued eyes narrowed, then, the reality of it and the stark unfairness of it all rankling the Sacred Sister's sense of justice and pride. _Get yourself together, girl. No one is going to save you. This is not a fairy tale and you are not some weak and simpering princess._ Getting back to her feet, she closed the doors behind her upon leaving the Dragoon Chamber and then turned on the toes of her boot to follow after Albert. One way or another, she would force him to wake up to a new reality.


	5. Lost Souls

**Chapter 5: Lost Souls**

Miranda found her desire to corner the King circumvented as she strode down the corridor. Albert had paused up ahead, speaking to one of the castle guards. It wasn't until she came closer, just about to reach out and grab the sovereign by his arm and force him to turn and face her that the overheard conversation in process gave her pause.

"Aye, Your Majesty, Noish wishes to speak with all of you immediately. I am to find the Lady Miranda next."

"I'm right here," Miranda made her presence known with a wry twist to her voice. Albert turned far enough to find her gaze and the narrowing of her eyes spoke more than words ever could. She would corner him later, and she expected the King to give in to her eventually. Hazelnut eyes widened a touch, startled at what he read on her visage and then he turned back toward the guard abruptly.

"We shall go now, then, thank you."

The guard saluted with a fist to his breast, bowed afterwards and departed down another corridor, his mission completed now that he'd located the last two Noish wished an audience with. Albert did not dally, either, quickening his step till Miranda had to trot alongside him, unable to keep up with his long legs when he was determined to walk ahead of her and avoid conversation.

"Albert!" she hissed, finally, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop and turn toward her. Their eyes locked, hazelnut warmth of Serdio staring into the cold blue of Mille Seseau winter. Though she had him at her mercy at last, she found her newly acquired strength and fervor slipping through her fingers. He reached toward her hand, holding it briefly while her grip loosened.

"Miranda... let it go," he said quietly and pried her fingers free before turning away from her again. Defeated, she watched him continue without her before willing her feet to move, to numbly locate the others and discover why Noish summoned all of them all at once.

Noish's den was located on the second floor, a warm and cluttered space filled with books and mementos of three kings, now. Albert's time, Carlo's brief rule and before him, his father Kerrich. Papers and parchments lined a desk haphazardly, threatening to spill over the edge to tumble across the floor with a soft susuration of sound. Books with faded and broken spines filled the bookshelves, which took up the most space of all within the den. Noish himself had taken a seat toward the back, opening as much space as possible within cramped confines. Having seven people and an infant cloistered together proved to be interesting, but there was no where else he wished to meet, not when he needed to speak with them all in private.

"Ah, Your Majesty, Sister Miranda, I'm glad you're here. Please, shut the door and try to be comfortable, everyone. My apologies for the small space..."

"What is going on, Minister Noish, that asks us here rather than one of the conference chambers?" Albert inquired first, distinctly avoiding the urge to look toward Miranda, though he felt her standing close and could even smell the faint perfume that always accompanied her.

"I won't keep any of you long, Majesty, I promise," Noish began, shifting the comforter around himself for warmth. As old as he had become, lately he felt his age creeping up on him and part of him wondered if he might live to see another King after Albert. The thought disconcerted him, leaving him to gaze at the sovereign's face. With a sigh, he shook himself free of his revelries. "Mille Seseau has sent word. The Black-Burst Dragon has been spotted in the Mountain of the Divine Dragon."

Silence filled the room in the wake of Noish's words. Dart was the first to break it, stepping forward slightly to ask, "Is Deningrad in danger?"

"I don't know, this missive is several days old by now."

Miranda felt her heart catch in her throat, thick and difficult to swallow down as the world around her swooned. Deningrad had already survived the attack of one dragon and rebuilt itself to its former glory. Even the Crystal Palace had recovered, human architecture joined with ancient wingly designs to make it more eye appealing than ever. "We should leave right away," she said, "My people can't handle another dragon attack. The first stole so much..." Life, security, safety, these things had been restored finally but remained precarious if another dragon threatened them.

Noish nodded solemnly, "I had thought as much. I have already arranged for transportation with the Queen Fury. You will all be taken to Mille Seseau when you are prepared." After a pause and a look of askance from Albert, he sighed quietly and added with a rueful smile, "And I will remain legal regent of Serdio until your return, Your Majesty. I knew you would not allow your friends to go off alone without you."

"Thank you, Noish," Albert replied, returning a brighter smile to his advisor. Noish practically raised the sovereign of Serdio, replacing the father who died so violently when the boy was barely six. Their relationship often went far above a King and his Minister to father and son instead. It warmed his heart to know that the old man allowed him these dalliances.

"I understand you far better than you realize, Albert," Noish said with quiet warmth. "Now all of you, go. Your destinies are not complete yet, it seems."

_Her mother confronted, the Death Rose destroyed, Miranda could not help but sink against the floor of the age old Serdian inn and weep into her hands. They left her to her own designs at that point, seeking answers elsewhere along the contours and strange happenstance that made up the surface of the Moon that Never Sets. Or rather that had at last set upon the earth, on the Divine Tree no less. Like a crybaby she sniffled into her sleeve, wiping at her tears with an angry swipe of her hand. She had grown up now, there was no reason for her to be weeping like a little child. Like the day she watched her own mother run off with another man, to have a life she couldn't have if she stayed behind to tend to a drunken husband and a small child. As a little girl, Miranda seethed with her hatred. As a grown woman, part of her understood the desire to run away from responsibility. Her hand closed reflexively around the silver-white orb that she kept dangling off a chain around her throat. Shana had asked her to look out for the others, to take her place in the group. Miranda had to live up to her word, she promised. _

But how tempting it was to want to run away. To shed the Spirit for the chance to return to the planet and leave behind the frightening things that inhabited the Moon, that toyed with their minds with things like the Death Rose. Miranda was not convinced that the creature had been her mother, not even if her face and voice matched perfectly. Had she forgiven her? She wasn't sure, though the weight on her shoulders felt lessened. Even if it were nothing but an illusion, it was a confrontation she longed for. Perhaps that's why the Moon latched onto it. How strange that something she was supposed to help destroy aided her in getting a grip on her own life.

"Miranda are you in h--" Albert's voice cut off as he entered the room, pausing in the doorway as Miranda turned to glare at him. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, tears streaking her cheeks. The pair looked at one another in a weighty silence.

"Get out," Miranda demanded. Her voice broke despite herself and she could only sink back to her knees, lowering her face into her hands. To her chagrin, she heard the sound of boots on the wooden floors and then the sovereign of Serdio was beside her, down on one knee.

"Miranda, what happened to you in there? You haven't spoken a word about it to us but yet you are obviously hurt. Please, we are your friends as well as your allies." A hand came to rest against her shoulder and Miranda jerked away from him, turning her back while she rubbed at her face vigorously.

"What would you know. Have you ever lost something dear to--" she halted herself, then, recalling abruptly how Albert had lost Lavitz. Though she hardly knew the entire situation there, Queen Theresa often warned her about being so bold as to assume her losses were greater. Turning, she found him resting against one palm on the floor, sitting there and watching her with a solicitous, hazelnut gaze. "When I was a child, my mother abandoned my father and I. The Moon... it knew about it and in that place I confronted her finally."

The king frowned deeply as he listened unobtrusively. A gloved hand reached out toward her again to brush against her cheek, a comforting gesture. "Miranda, we have all experienced loss. It is our power to forgive that sets us above the evils in this world. Did you forgive her?"

"Yes," she replied softly, strangely quieted by his logic. "Who... who do you think the Moon will ask you to confront?"

"My uncle, most likely. He killed my father and kidnapped my mother when I was very young... he destroyed my world," he replied with a noncommital shrug of his shoulders. His hand drifted away from her, coming to rest against his lap.

"Will you forgive him?" she asked.

"I already have," he replied.

Sitting so close, caught up in their silence, winter blue met warm hazelnut and without even thinking about it, Miranda found herself leaning in toward Albert. Their lips met only briefly, a gentle kiss without reason or logic. A moment shared in the chaos of their war against the Moon and the God of Destruction. But in that moment, everything changed. Before, they were allies, maybe friends and nothing more. After the kiss, everything was thrown into question.

"I had no right... forgive me," Albert spoke quietly, getting back to his feet fluidly. The green cape flowed like a jade cascade, brushing against the backs of his calves, touching at Miranda's cheek as she turned away to hug her knees to her chest. He paused, waiting to see if she would reply, if she regretted the moment. Miranda found she had no words with which to speak, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes again. Head hung and shoulders slumped, the King of Serdio left the room without another word.

"I already have," she murmured in her solitude.

Miranda woke with the dream wrought memory thickly entrenched within her mind. Her body felt weary, weak for rising so early in the morning but she forced herself to sit up, finding that tears had dried on her cheeks. She brushed at them absently, praying her eyes would not be puffy and telling. Since that fateful moment, she had done her best to forget, especially after Melbu Frauma was defeated and everyone went on with their lives. Albert intended to marry Emille, he made that clear. She couldn't blame him, in the end. He was an honorable man who stuck by his word. But, part of her resented Emille, that she had been there first as Albert floundered in a sea of doubt and loneliness. That she had not gotten the opportunity to ease his pain before the pampered princess of Tiberoa. 

Perhaps the reason why Albert had been so angry with her thoughts on Emille had been the truth behind her accusations. Emille filled a void in the aftermath of Lavitz' death, done hastily and without thought for the future. His guilt, his talk and babble about his sins and refusal to explain any of it suddenly made sense. Miranda shook her head, resolve returning as she realized suddenly that Albert refused her for fear she were another infatuation, another prop to occupy his time.

Well, Miranda the First Sacred Sister of Mille Seseau was certainly not about to be fill any void or act as any prop. Determined, she tossed the coverlets aside and swung her legs out of the bed. She would rise, get dressed and after breakfast track His Majesty down and force him to stop living in his own guilt riddled cage. A ruler was supposed to be dignified and she saw no dignity or regality in self loathing.

However, her thoughts cut short as she glanced down at her calves. Winter blue eyes widened in shock and horror, scrambling to lean over toward the window and grasp the curtains, thrusting them open to allow the morning sunlight to stream into the room. To her dismay, silvery scales glistened on her legs. Just a few, but running a hand over the roughness convinced her of their reality. What in the world was going on? She pulled the nightshirt back enough to reveal the Dragoon Spirit there, still buried within the flesh of her chest and sinking deeper.

"Miranda? Are you all right in there?" a voice called as a fist pounded against the door. Startled, the Sacred Sister jumped and then leapt to her feet to answer the door before the voice on the other end knocked it down. Albert stood there, barely dressed in a nightshirt and a hastily thrown on pair of breeches. Behind him was Meru and Kongol, dressed in their own nightwear. She immediately knew that her horror was shared. Meru's shoulder glistened with blue scales, Kongol's chest bore the beginnings of gold and all alone Albert's forearms came the tint of green. The only one of them not accounted for as Haschel, for Dart and Shana did not have Spirits.

As if on cue, another door down the hallway swung open, Haschel staggering out while staring at his hands. The backs of them glistened with the same scales everyone else had begun to find, though his were a deep purple. All of them stared at one another, gazes flickering about without the need for words. It was Albert who suddenly confirmed their innermost fears.

"I... I think I know what became of Emille."

(To be continued, stay tuned true believers!)


	6. Ruby Eyes

**Ruby Eyes**

The Queen Fury tossed and turned across pitched and restless seas. Meru had already gone belowdeck to avoid watching the way the waters churned, pulling the ship along the waters toward Mille Seseau. Miranda took the time to chide her for it, even if her heart wasn't in the ribbing she normally gave her wingly friend for being so easily seasick. Everyone was pensive in light of their predicaments. Though her boots effectively hid the strange, silvery scales that appeared on her calves, they itched something fierce and she had to resist the urge to scratch at them. Everyone save Kongol took the opportunity to hide their blemishes. Even Meru traded in her scanty dresses for something that draped over her shoulder and kept all eyes off the blue scales that glimmered there. The Gigantos saw no point in it, and the gold on his chest stood out for all to see. But, he too had finally gone below and the rest scattered to their own respective spots aboard the ship. It left the Sacred Sister on her own, leaning against the edge of the boat to watch the waters idly and toss hunks of bread to the gathered seagulls that screeched and circled above her before diving to grab up tasty morsels that otherwise would be sacrifices to the capricious seas.

The prospect of becoming a dragon frightened Miranda. Albert's theory made sense, and certainly explained the theft of the Dark Dragoon Spirits only days before the Black Burst Dragon's appearance. Why would Emille dare to touch the stones? She never held an interest in them beyond passing questions directed toward Albert. Gold brows furrowed at Miranda's dark thoughts over it all. If the princess had been foolish enough to court something she knew nothing about, then she deserved her fate. With a firm nod of her head, the Sacred Sister resigned herself to a sigh, following. She was changing, she knew. Once upon a time, she would have believed that with all her heart and refused to think otherwise. Now, it was a half-hearted thought, knowing it was her own jealousy rearing its head and nothing more. No one deserved what Emille must surely be suffering.

"Penny for your thoughts?" a voice asked quietly, startling Miranda enough to make her jump and whirl around.

"Dart!" she cried in exasperation, lifting a hand to her chest as if to will her heart still again. "Don't do that. You scared me."

"Sorry," he grinned, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly while reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. "You just looked so thoughtful and kinda down... didn't mean to make you jump."

"I think we're all subdued right now, Dart," she replied quietly as her composure returned. "I suppose it was fortuitous that you relinquished your spirit awhile ago."

The blonde shook his head, reaching into his armor for a moment before drawing forth a glowing red stone. Opening his palm, he displayed it for Miranda and it suddenly shone bright as the sun, detecting the Spirit nearby. The Sacred Sister couldn't help the slackening of her jaw muscles, staring with wide, stunned eyes.

"Dart, you fool. Does Shana know you've taken the Red-Eye Dragoon Spirit?"

"No, and don't you tell her either. She stayed home for a reason. I'm not going to put her or my son in danger if I can help it. But we need all the power we can get; I took the risk."

Miranda felt her old fire returning, considering Shana's feelings in this as the girl had become like a sister to her. They both shared the experience of possessing the Silver-White Dragoon Spirit, they both deeply understood life and love and pain and healing. This felt like a betrayl, and it rankled the justice oriented spirit of the Sacred Sister. "Dart... you will tell her when we return, or I will. And you be careful with that, don't make me show you the scales on Albert's arms to display why."

Dart rolled his eyes heavenwards, but bobbed his head in a dutiful nod, "All right, all right. God, I forgot how much alike you and Shana are at times."

That startled Miranda anew, changing her expression to puzzlement. "Shana and I are friends, but hardly alike. You won't see me --" Stopping herself before going any further, she swallowed back the words she knew would only anger Dart. To her surprise, he merely grinned at her, knowing what she meant even if she never quite finished her sentence.

"S'okay, Miranda. Someday, you'll remember you started to say that and be glad you ate your words now rather than later."

And he left her after that, snickering into his hand while dodging the hunk of bread she flung at his head. Flushed and indignant, she clenched her fists and then whirled back around, determined to forget his obvious hints and innuendo while resting her chin atop her crossed arms while leaning against the rail again. The cool sea air breezed past her cheeks, taking away strands of gold hair and forcing her to blink a bit more rapidly. Nothing soothed her faster than a rocking motion. Her mother used to rock her to sleep when she was a toddler. It was one of the few good memories she had of the woman who abandoned her. Lullabies and rocking chairs. The sea lulled her to a state of half-awareness, and in that her mind was prone to wandering.

Eventually her eyes drifted shut, dozing against the rail with the wind in her hair and the seas gentle lap against the bow of the ship.

Down below, Meru moaned wearily to herself, tired of the rolling and pitching of the ship. With a whimper she rolled onto her side and sighed quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. These trips were always easier when she slept but it was hard to sleep when constantly sick. So, the little medicine vial from Haschel had been a godsend. Though it made her mind a bit fuzzy, she drifted off to sleep anyway, smiling in her repose. At least until the nightmares began.

Albert loved the sound of the ocean. Shana declared him a poet once for expressing his feelings, but it never ceased to lull him into a sleepy stupor. The heartbeat of the world beneath him, carrying him and his friends off to adventures yet unknown. He stretched out across the couch, long legs not quite fitting and dangling over the side. To the crewman who passed by on an errand, it appeared that the King of Serdio had nodded off.

Kongol didn't mind the sea, but never quite felt as though he fit in with the crewmen. That and the doorways were always so small, making it difficult for him to move about the ship like his friends did. So, he had his bedding and personal affects kept in the boiler room, where he could move about freely and the crewmen avoided the Gigantos if they could. The heat of the room reminded Kongol of his homeland, the ruins now that had been his birthplace. How he would bask in the sun on warm days and even nap until the stars filled the sky. The memory brought him to smile quietly to himself while drifting off to sleep as he did when he was young.

All was so very quiet, the sound of the waves lapping against the boat, the gentle cry of seagulls circling, the shuffle of crewmen quietly going about their tasks. A lazy afternoon and what better way to spend it than by catching a well deserved nap? That was Haschel's way of looking at it. Finding a secluded spot in the crow's nest, after convincing the lad who normally kept his perch there that he was free to go, the rogue sighed contentedly and laced his fingers behind his head. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and intended to get in some shut eye before someone came and yelled at him.

Dart headed back to the room he shared with the others, smiling quietly to find Meru stretched out and looking green around the gills, even while asleep. Removing his armor, he left it propped up against one of the bunks. It had been two years since he'd worn it, and it had fit a little tightly on him, having gained a bit of weight since settling down. After this adventure, he figured he'd be fitting into it again without trouble. His sword arm was, naturally, a bit rusty, too. Hopefully the heroics of yesteryear wouldn't be necessary this time. Everyone had grown complacent in the years since the Dragon Conflict.

The peal of a chiming sound caught his attention, followed by the glow that enaminated from his belt pouch. Somewhat startled, he glanced down to see the fabric aglow with an inner light. Since the others had worn their Spirits around their necks, he felt it far safer to keep his off his person, or as far from himself as possible. At night, he didn't dare to sleep with it on or near him. But now, seeing how it shown, he reached into the pouch to draw it out, opening his palm to watch the crimson glow undulate there against his flesh.

He never saw it coming, nor would he understand how it happened. One moment he was standing there near the bunks and in the next, he had collapsed to the wooden floor, the stone rolling from his palm and circling around till it came to rest beside him... at his chest level.

When Albert finally woke, it was to the solicitous visage of one of the Queen Fury's crew members. A hand rested against his shoulder, having ceased the motion meant to shake him to wakefulness. "Oh... I must have fallen asleep."

"Aye, Your Majesty. You were dreaming something fierce, too, calling out some name. Lavitz? I think. Sounds right," the crewman agreed with a firm nod of his head.

Albert reached up to rub at one of his eyes with the heel of his palm. He had been dreaming, that much he was aware of, but the contents and meaning had begun to fade now that he'd woken. And, Lavitz had most definitely been a part of the whole thing. "Thank you. I'm all right now, truly."

The crewman hesitated, as if not quite sure and then bowed slightly before turning to leave the room and let the King of Serdio gather his wits there on the couch. The boat still swayed and rocked gently, like the hand of a mother against a baby's cradle. It might have lulled Albert back to sleep, except that the dream still haunted his memory, and then the sudden remembrance of the Dragoon Spirit and its mysterious attachment to his body. Removing his gloves and peeling back the sleeves of his tunic, he grimaced to see the pronounced color of jade scales trailing from his wrists up to his elbows. Since he'd last stared at them, they'd gained more of a hardened luster, spreading further across his flesh. Inwardly he felt the heat of the Dragoon Spirit, knew the poison it spread into his flesh was what now sought to transform him and a sense of sadness washed over him.

Emille obviously had succumbed already. She had never used a Dragoon Spirit and her genteel temperament simply would not have given her the willpower to survive an onslaught such as Albert and his allies faced now. It made sense to conclude that she was now the Black Burst Dragon nesting at the Mountain of the Divine Dragon. And he had no guarantee that she could be rescued. Somehow, he couldn't help but blame himself for the entire situation. If only he had been more attentive, if only he had kept the stones more guarded. If only...

But, if onlys were not going to save her now, or extract the Spirit trying to take over his body.

Rising to his feet, he blinked away the last of the sleep from his eyes and realized he should find the others. The crewman hadn't told him how long he'd been asleep and he'd neglected to ask. But, stepping out onto the deck, he realized that it was well after dark, the stars a bright blanket of jewels in the sky. The roar of the ocean rocking against the boat filled his ears, along with the sound of laughter from down below, where the crew currently gathered to tell stories and eventually prepare for bed. No one was on the deck, that he could see, except for a small figure against the railing, curled up beside a coiling of thick rope.

It was not until he was practically standing beside her that Albert realized it was Miranda.

Kneeling beside her, he reached out to touch her shoulder, shaking her when she would not wake at first. She mumbled something incoherent and finally a pair of cerulean eyes cracked open, blinking a few times as her wits returned to her.

"Oh god," she gasped, sitting up abruptly as she realized her surroundings. "I must have... fallen asleep here. How did I do that?"

Albert smiled at her somewhat ruefully and shrugged his shoulders, offering her a hand to help her to her feet again. "I'm not sure, but I suddenly felt the need to nap, myself, except that I was below deck, on a couch, instead."

"I suppose next time I'll just have to make sure I'm near some sort of--" she cut herself off as she realized belatedly that it was Albert she stood next to. Flustered, she drew back from him, flitting her hair over her shoulders before tugging her skirt down. "Um, thank you."

The awkwardness was contagious, it seemed. Albert found himself almost fidgeting in the Sacred Sister's presence. Miranda, in realizing this, fit her hands on her hips, expression changing to something far more stern, something anyone would expect from her.

"Since I have you here..." she began and before Albert could backpedal, before he could make some sort of excuse or warn her away from him, she had reached out and grabbed the fabric of his tunic, dragged him down to her level and planted a firm kiss on his lips.

After that, he gave up trying to get away from her.

Meru's scream startled half the ship.

She continued to wail at the top of her lungs until nearly everyone had gathered in the sleeping cabin to find out what in the world was the matter. Kongol had woken already after Haschel had found him. And Albert and Miranda found their moment of solitude interrupted by the shrill sound, all four of them rushing in so quickly they nearly collided with one another.

Sitting up in bed, Meru just screamed again and pointed at the body on the floor of the cabin. Dart lay there, still unconscious despite the noise going on around him. It was Haschel who reached the youth's side first, checking to see if he were still alive and then shaking him afterwards until finally he woke. Only then did Meru finally cease her caterwauling, huddled in her blankets and whimpering.

"He was just lying there like that, I thought he was dead or something," she whined.

Somehow retaining his good humor, Haschel chuckled at the wingly and shook his head. "Just asleep, next time, why don't you call for us or just check for yourself, ok?"

Groggily, Dart sat up, holding his head in his hands. "Ugh... what happened?"

"Did everyone fall asleep?" Albert couldn't help but ask, seeing too many coincidental moments. "I found Miranda passed out on the deck. I fell asleep abruptly on the couch..."

"Kongol sleep downstairs," the Gigantos confirmed from his spot outside the doorway. Haschel sighed and nodded to admit to his own bout with unconsciousness.

Silence permeated the room after that, too many thoughts echoing loudly in everyone's heads to express them. It was Dart who broke the stillness, groaning as he held his head in his hands and then slowly staggered to his feet, reaching out blindly until finally Haschel helped balance him a bit. It took them all a moment to understand why Dart was having such trouble. Just a moment and then a collective gasp from all by Kongol.

Dart's eyes, both of them, glowed a ruby red, glittering like gems. And it blinded him entirely.

(Author's Voice: Sorry this took me so long to get out. I got distracted, gomen. But, here's the chapter you all wanted. - Hopefully I'll get back to this and my other LoD ficcies soon.)


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